


Tripping Breakers

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: Trope Bingo Round 14 [6]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers – All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Desk Sex, Discussion, Explicit Consent, Fingering, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Kissing, M/M, Overloads (Transformers), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Risk of Discovery, Semi-Public Sex, Shoulder rubs, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Trope Bingo Round 14, seriously just porn, spike play, valve play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24789268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: Prowl accepts an offer of a shoulder rub from the new third-in-command, and it leads to an unanticipated but welcome bout of interfacing in his office.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Series: Trope Bingo Round 14 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635451
Comments: 18
Kudos: 136
Collections: Trope Bingo: Round Fourteen





	Tripping Breakers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope Bingo Round 14. Prompt: Public Sex/Risk of Discovery

Prowl was accustomed to stress and the tension it brought with it and was certainly no stranger to pain. Since the war had broken out, he'd become accustomed to stiff shoulders and lingering, nagging, discomfort. He was generally able to ignore it today, but he was still slightly dented from a recent battle, and as a result, what was usually in the background was difficult to ignore. He frowned down at his workstation, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tension. The tension and the lingering aches and pains were not serious, but they were annoying, and an unwelcome distraction. Fortunately, the meeting he was in was little more than routine, and small attempts at relieving the stiffness were acceptable. Still, he was beginning to wonder if he shouldn't call a halt and seek out a hot shower, perhaps temporarily shut down some sensors.

Jazz, now serving as both head of Spec-Ops and the new third-in-command, was sitting on the other side of the desk and noticed Prowl's discomfort. That was hardly surprising since Jazz had already proven to be extremely perceptive. He likely would have picked up on it even if Prowl hadn't been fidgeting.

"You okay, there, Prowl?" Jazz asked, looking a little concerned.

"My recent damage is proving uncomfortable," Prowl admitted, as it was likely obvious. "But nothing more than that."

"I can give you a shoulder rub if you think it would help?" Jazz offered. "I won't be offended if you say 'no.'"

Prowl thought about it. Massage was a verified method for the release of tension and could assist self-repair by helping to work out the smaller dents. It would also feel good, and while Jazz had a reputation as a flirt, this sounded like nothing more than a friendly offer. True, it wasn't an offer Prowl would have expected to receive, but Jazz was tactile and free with it. Prowl was also confident he could trust Jazz to comply if he requested that the shoulder rub stop.

"That would be welcome, thank you," Prowl said, having reached his decision. Jazz nodded and stood up.

"I'm gonna come stand behind you," he explained, probably because he was unfamiliar with Prowl's personal boundaries. He circled around behind Prowl, spent a few nano-kliks examining Prowl's damage. "Wow, you've got more than a few dents here, too. Is it okay if I use my magnets? Might help pop a few of them, that'll feel better and give your self-repair less to work on."

"Yes, that's acceptable." Prowl known about the magnetic mods in Jazz's hands, but it hadn't occurred to him that they might have therapeutic uses.

"Alright. I'm going to start. Tell me to stop whenever you want."

Jazz put his hands on Prowl's shoulders, slowly increasing the pressure, and it _did_ feel good. The magnets pulled out many of the smaller dents, and the tension in his shoulders eased. The low-grade pain he'd gotten used to after so long faded, disappeared. Prowl had been trying to keep working, but gradually he stopped, just wanting to enjoy Jazz's touch.

"You're so tense it's kinking your cables, mech," Jazz observed. "This isn't all new damage, either. You carry the weight of the whole army on your shoulders or what?"

"It sometimes feels like it," Prowl admitted, optics dimming as he was freed of what felt like vorn worth of stress was relieved – and maybe that was right.

"You get a lot of headaches, don't you?" Jazz asked knowingly, and Prowl replied in the affirmative. "Mm, yeah, thought so. Got cables and tensors in the back of your neck all crimped up, that's probably what's causing them. I can help with that, too, if you don't mind having my hands that close to your throat."

Prowl was perfectly aware that Jazz was capable of killing, had done so, and would continue to do so. He also knew Jazz would not harm him because there was no reason to do so.

"I don't mind. You may proceed."

"Thanks, mech."

Prowl let his optics shut off as Jazz, using a combination of pressure and his magnetic mods, worked the crimps out of his neck for him. There was one particularly stubborn spot that required a lot of work, and Jazz had to press hard. It hurt for a moment – Prowl grunted at the pain, which for a moment was almost too much – and then the knot let go, and he gasped quietly.

"Feeling any better?" Jazz asked, still rubbing Prowl's neck and shoulders but not as hard as he had been. He didn't need to anymore.

"Yes, much," Prowl said gratefully. "Thank you."

"No problem. I'm not surprised it was bugging you, that one tensor was stiff like armour."

"I'm feeling much better." Prowl realized he'd slumped, and he didn't particularly feel like straightening up.

"Want me to keep going?" Jazz offered. "That was the worst of it, but you're still kinda tensed up."

"It would feel good," Prowl admitted, "but only if you're certain."

"I'm sure. I don't mind, and you need it." His tone softened. "I've been paying attention, Prowl. I know how hard you work and how little thanks you get for it. So, let me show you some appreciation, alright?"

Prowl hadn't had anyone show him this kind of care in – he couldn't remember how long. "Alright."

Prowl hadn't felt this good in – he couldn't remember how long. The tension in his neck and shoulders was gone, along with the faint, chronic, headache he'd gotten used to. He'd had warnings about intracranial energon pressure on his HUD for ages, nothing severe but persistent, and now they disappeared. For a time, the absence of stress and discomfort left him feeling almost as if he were floating. Jazz's touch grew lighter, soothing instead of fighting Prowl's tension, and Prowl hardly realized he was pushing back into it, wanting more. A pleasant warmth was suffusing him, and he made a soft sound of enjoyment.

"Sounds like you're feeling better," Jazz observed.

"Mm. Mhm. Oh…" Prowl felt another dent pop, not one serious enough to be more than an annoyance, but he was glad to be rid of it. There was a light tingling feeling in his lines, and he idly wondered what it could be. "Mmm…"

Jazz's hands slowed. "It's starting to sound like more than just enjoying less tension, there, Prowl. I'm okay with this going further, or not, or apologizing for overstepping, but I've got to hear real words from you, alright?"

Prowl abruptly realized what the familiar-but-not sensation in his lines was and was immediately embarrassed. Primus, Jazz had just meant to be friendly! And had it really been so long that Prowl didn't recognize what being charged felt like? Jazz hadn't even been trying to arouse him. It was almost as if it were the only way his body knew to interpret the release of stress and pain.

"Prowl?" Jazz prompted, hands stilling. Not lifting away, just stilling. Prowl could still feel the slow pulses of the magnets.

Prowl rarely interfaced casually, primarily because he didn't have the time and not because he was opposed to the idea. Jazz was open to casual interface and had already said he was alright with this going further. And – and Prowl felt good, physically good, for the first time in a long time, and there was certainly nothing wrong with wanting that to continue. But…

"It is tempting, but I don't want to take advantage," Prowl admitted, standing and turning so he could look at Jazz.

"We've got the same rank," Jazz pointed out. "It's not a problem from that standpoint, and I'm not unwilling. I mean, it's not what I had in mind when I offered, but I'm still saying 'yes.' Unless you want me to drop it, then I will, and I won't ask about it again."

"It's just – it's been a long time," Prowl said. Jazz held out a hand, and Prowl took it, feeling strong fingers curl around his. "I've not had much opportunity since I acquired my present rank." Or, to be honest, before that. "I suppose I've been fairly isolated."

"Rank'll do that to you. I get it."

"I suppose you do. What do you want from this?"

"Little more stress release, some fun, a couple of overloads. Is it the same for you?"

"Yes, it is."

"D'you want to go back to your quarters, or mine, or…?"

"You're willing to interface here?" Prowl asked, surprised. His office was not entirely public, it was true, but people still passed by outside. They might seek him out, but if they left, he might lose his nerve along with his charge. The door had a lock, but Security could override it if he were out of communication, and it became a concern. Indeed, no one would expect Prowl, straitlaced Second-in-Command to be fragging in his office. They might get caught. The idea sent a little thrill through him.

"I am if you are." Jazz grinned, and Prowl liked the look on him. "I like the edge the idea of maybe getting caught gives it." Prowl wasn't sure what his expression looked like, but it must have changed because the grin broadened. "Looks like you do, too, huh?"

"I do," Prowl admitted just a little shyly.

"So, you're in?"

"I am."

"Okay, then." Jazz put his free hand on Prowl's waist, looking into his face. "D'you kiss when it's casual?"

"Yes."

Prowl brought a hand up to cup the back of Jazz's helm as they kissed, sighing softly when the kiss deepened. It was a slow, careful kiss to start but soon picked up heat and the arousal that had begun to fade while they talked began to build again. Soon, Jazz pressed Prowl backward until he was sitting on the edge of his desk, the chair shoved heedlessly to one side. Prowl reached behind him and pushed his things into a pile, making space, fully expecting to wind up over the desk one way or another. Jazz freed his hands so he could touch Prowl, tracing the curve of his bumper, trailing around to find the base of his doors and the sensitive articulations there. Prowl groaned Jazz's name, sitting back further and drawing the mech in to stand between his thighs. Jazz's touch felt electric, thrilling. It had been a long time since Prowl had interfaced, and his body was responding fast to the attention of a partner.

"Prowl," Jazz murmured, kissing his jaw. "Damn, you're heating up fast." His hand slid suggestively down Prowl's abdomen, coming to rest right about his codpiece. "Want to take the edge off before the main event?"

Prowl tipped his head back, giving Jazz better access to his throat. "Yes, please!"

Jazz nipped Prowl's collar fairing. "Want to give me your spike?"

Prowl shivered and opened his armour, gasping when Jazz's fingers brushed lightly over the recessed head of his spike, and he pressurized into his lover's hand. He couldn't remember the last time someone else's hand had gripped him, and Jazz's fingers wrapped around him _just_ right.

"Oh yeah," Jazz said appreciatively, stroking Prowl's spike slowly and drawing a whine from the tactician. "Don't worry, Prowl, not gonna keep you waiting, just…" Armour hissed open, and Prowl caught a glimpse of Jazz's spike before he pressed closer and wrapped a hand around both their spikes together. "This okay?"

"Yes," Prowl groaned, rocking his hips up into Jazz's grip, and fresh arousal shot through him when the head of his spike rubbed against Jazz's. "Oh, _yes_!"

Jazz leaned in and kissed him again, murmuring, "go on, don't hold back. Just taking the edge off, remember?"

Prowl moaned in response, clinging to Jazz's shoulders. He came after just a few strokes, embarrassingly fast, leaving his lover still hard.

"There you go," Jazz said softly, kissing Prowl's cheek and letting go just as Prowl's spike was about to become too sensitive for touch. "Good?"

"Y-yes, but I – and you didn't…" Prowl never was coherent right after an overload.

"Mm, not yet. Happens that way sometimes." Jazz took one of Prowl's hands off his shoulder, kissed the backs of the fingers. "It's okay, I want to take care of you right now. Just tell me what you want, lover."

Prowl hitched a thigh up over Jazz's hip, managed to string a sentence together. "I want you to spike me."

Jazz slid a hand along Prowl's thigh. "Love to." He brushed the edge of Prowl's valve panel, and it snapped open with shameless speed.

Prowl's spark spun a little faster, and he was acutely aware of the warmth of Jazz's hand so near his valve. He wanted, but he was nowhere near slick enough yet to comfortably take a spike. "Please, touch me."

Jazz didn't have to be asked twice, stroking Prowl's valve, circling his node but not quite touching it. His fingers were delicate, almost teasing. "Just touch? Cause I’m happy to go down on you too."

Prowl shuddered, imagining it. That clever, mobile mouth would work magic between his thighs, he was sure. Jazz, so far proven considerate and generous, would bring him to overload after overload, but…

"I can't…I can't, now, it's too much, I – "

"Shh, baby, it's okay." Jazz kissed him reassuringly. "We'll talk later." He pressed a fingertip just inside Prowl, testing, and Prowl's hips jerked up desperately at the touch. "Oh. Oh, sweetspark, it has been a while for you, hasn't it?"

For a reply, Prowl pulled him back into a kiss, reaching down between them to take hold of Jazz's spike and return some of the pleasure his lover was giving him. Jazz panted sharply, hips bucking into Prowl's grip.

Perhaps it had been a while for Jazz as well.

Jazz worked his fingers into Prowl, rolling the sensitive anterior node with his thumb, making sure Prowl was wet and ready to take a spike. His mouth latched on to Prowl's throat, kissing and nibbling at cables that were decidedly no longer tense from stress. There was a much, _much_ better tension building in Prowl's structure now!

"Please!" Prowl gasped when Jazz had three fingers buried deep inside him, moving quickly now. Jazz's spike was hard and leaking in his hand, and he _needed it_ …

Jazz dragged his teeth over Prowl's collar fairing, and his fingers withdrew from Prowl's valve. "Here, lie back, let me…"

Prowl let Jazz help him lie back on the desk, clutching at the other mech's shoulders. Jazz's spike pressed against his valve, rubbed along it, the head bumping against his node and sending little shocks of pleasure through him.

"Jazz, please!"

Jazz groaned again, and his hand nudged Prowl's inner thigh, making him jerk because _everything_ was sensitive, as he guided his spike into Prowl's valve. It had been a long time since Prowl had taken anything more than his own fingers, and he cried out when he was breached, trembling.

"Good?" Jazz managed.

"Yes!"

"Frag," Jazz didn't stop, slowly pushing deeper, opening Prowl up on his spike. "Frag, you're tight."

"I can take it." Prowl wrapped his legs around Jazz, pulling him in deeper. "Please, I can…I can…" If Jazz stopped, even to let Prowl's valve adjust and stop fluttering, he thought he might blow a relay from sheer frustration.

"Shh," Jazz soothed, scattering kisses over Prowl's chest. "I know, I know you can. Primus, you're so wet!"

Jazz bottomed out, and Prowl moaned, head falling back onto the desk. Jazz was panting, and he didn't pause, starting to move right away, a little more slowly than Prowl would have liked.

"Yes, more, please!" Prowl gasped, optics wide, charge thrumming through him.

Jazz reached back, grabbed Prowl's leg behind the knee, and hooked it over his arm, changing the angle and making Prowl's HUD flicker with the change in sensation.

Prowl cried out again, then covered his mouth with his hand, remembering that even though it was late in the day, others were working nearby. There _were_ offices where the sound of interfacing wouldn't get much more than a knowing chuckle, but his wasn't one of them. No one would expect _Prowl_ to be in his office getting fragged across his desk by a mech he barely knew. They wouldn't expect that any sounds they might hear could be Prowl moaning and crying out, however muffled, for more while another overload bore down on him. He kept one hand over his mouth, knowing he couldn't be quiet this time, gripping Jazz's arm with the other. The desk rocked under them as Jazz took him faster, visor dimming with effort.

"Jazz," Prowl moaned, curling up toward his lover. "Jazz, I'm close, I-I'm going to…"

"I know, I can feel it." Jazz shuddered, seeming to be close himself. "Primus, you…go on, let me see you come on my spike."

Prowl still tried to hold off, but it had been so long since he'd had a partner, and he was so charged that blue flashes of static were arcing between them, and he _couldn't_. Prowl overloaded again, harder than before, barely able to hear Jazz groaning his name under his own choked cry.

When Prowl surfaced from his post-overload haze, it was to find Jazz still over and inside of him, still hard as if he hadn't climaxed yet.

"Sweetspark," Jazz was saying, stroking Prowl's cheek, "Prowl, can you turn over for me? Please?"

"I – yes – " He managed to do as asked, with Jazz's help, his limbs shaky and sluggish to respond.

"Yeah, yeah, that's…" Jazz gripped Prowl's hips and drove back into him, wringing a moan from him, and fragged him hard and fast.

Prowl rested his weight on his arms, head bowed, an aftershock – not quite an overload – washing through him when Jazz finished inside him with a sharp gasp.

"Ahh," Jazz groaned, leaning over him, head bent and pressed to Prowl's back, between his shoulders, and just rested for a while. Prowl was okay with that. "That was… _frag_!" He fumbled for Prowl's hand, squeezed it. "You good?"

Prowl squeezed back. "Yes."

"Good." They rested together for a few kliks, and then Jazz straightened up, reluctantly Prowl thought. "Stay there. I'll clean us up a bit, okay?"

"Mhm."

Prowl's knees weren't quite cooperating yet, so that was an easy enough instruction to follow. By the time Jazz was done, Prowl was able to push himself upright and turn to face his – lover? A friend with benefits? Casual frag buddies? He wasn't sure how they were going to define this – if there was going to be a 'this.'

"How're you feeling?" Jazz asked, folding his cleaning cloth between his hands before tossing it at the recycler anyway.

"Much better, thank you," Prowl said, aware his reply was stiff and rather formal considering he was talking to the mech who'd just been housing-deep inside him. Jazz didn't seem to mind, though.

"Yeah, you even look more relaxed. It's not a permanent fix or anything, I know, but…"

Prowl managed a rueful smile. "No, and there's still a lot of work I have to handle."

"You don't have to handle it alone, you know," Jazz pointed out. "I mean, there's gotta be some kind of help I can give you besides just tripping your breakers."

"I did enjoy having you 'trip my breakers,'" Prowl admitted with a smile. "I – would like it if this were not a one-time occurrence."

Jazz grinned at him. "You're adorable when you're formal, you know that? But yeah, so would I."

Prowl was still smiling, but… "I suppose we'll have to set expectations, or boundaries, or – "

"Yeah," Jazz said. "But it can wait until our gyros stabilize, right?"

"Yes," Prowl agreed, "and there is still work to do."

"Yeah." Jazz put a hand on his shoulder. "Think I can help you with that, too. You don't gotta do it all alone, y'know."

Prowl put a hand over Jazz's, still smiling. "I'd like that, too."

### Several Vorn Later

"Primus!" Jazz gasped, gripping the edge of the desk with desperate fingers. "Prowl! Don't stop, babe! Frag, love you so much!"

Prowl smiled happily and leaned over him. "I love you too." But he couldn't resist teasing. "Remember when this was supposed to be casual?"

"Oh yeah." Jazz groaned at a particularly deep thrust that hit all his sensors right at once. "Never been so glad to be wrong!"

Prowl kissed Jazz's shoulder. "Neither have I."

Outside in the corridor, someone paused to listen, then gave a knowing chuckle and kept walking.

**Author's Note:**

> Brain: Okay, so I know you want to finish your WiPBigBang stuff and all but here's 3.4K of porn you have to write before I'll cough up anything else.  
> Me: But…  
> Brain: 3.4K. Of. Porn.  
> Me: …fine, but I'm throwing some fluff in there at the end.  
> \---  
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> Author Responses: This author replies to comments. If you don't want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with "whisper," and I will appreciate it but not respond.


End file.
